What the Peach Holds

“Compassion directed toward oneself is true humility.” Simone Weil

Here. I chose this peach 

for you, the one whose

firm flesh yields to a softness

not yet bruised,

whose fuzz clings 

to anything it touches.

Touch it. Let it cling to you 

as a reminder of this day,

as a reminder in the storm

that is breaking, in the thunder

that you feel in your bones,

rain that falls hard and fast,

cold as the water you use

to wash this peach, holding 

its weight in your palm

as you take and eat, as its juice 

weeps from the corner of your mouth, 

drips off your chin.

May your body remember 

this peach even when 

the earth again freezes, 

when life moves underground,

when snow falls and fills

the same branch that bore this fruit.

May you be surprised 

again by beauty, 

giving you what you need 

to hold yourself with gentleness, 

strength to enter your life 

as you are, not as you think

      you should be.

Featured image is courtesy of Lancia E. Smith and used with her glad permission for Cultivating.

Amy Malskeit

Amy Malskeit is a lover of words and stories and people. She holds an undergraduate degree in English and Spanish, a secondary English teaching credential, and an MA in creative writing with an emphasis in poetry from Lancaster University in Northwest England. Her years teaching middle and high school gave her a love for middle grade and young adult literature, and the awkward awesome that being a young adult means. She is a mother of two who plants her garden and makes her home in the foothills southwest of Denver with her best friend, Kevin. She loves the water, and feels most at home when she is near the Pacific Ocean. She reads broadly, and is passionate about exploring big questions and small moments through her poetry, essays, and stories.